


Dropping Notes

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Buskers, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Singing, Street Musicians, Tiny bit of Angst, lots of songs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24290569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Two Buskers fight over a prime spot.
Relationships: Bog King/Marianne (Strange Magic)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Damonicus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damonicus/gifts), [RoyalFlushGang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyalFlushGang/gifts).



> I was convinced by my best friend to finish this and put it back up. :)

The day looked as if it would be cold, but clear. A good day to head to his favorite spot and play some music. Bog grinned as he pulled on his jeans He loved days like this on the weekend; it would mean a lot of people and that would mean his tips would be good. He was saving for a new electric guitar since his old one got busted on his road trip with Brutus and his band. 

He pulled on a grey t-shirt, ran his fingers through his short black hair to comb it as best as he cared to right now. His hair was long enough to brush his collar now--should probably think about getting it cut, the brief thought ran through his mind before he immediately forgot. One black curl fell across his brow before he grabbed a red plaid over-shirt, slipped that on, and pulled on his combat boots before he quickly packed his guitar and trumpet. He grabbed his hat, a old wide brim black bolero hat with a feather that had belonged to his father, the old wooden folding chair that was his grandfather’s, and headed out to his truck. 

Today was going to be a good day. 

Or it was until Bog arrived to find that someone had broken the busker code and was sitting in his spot. 

Bog stopped in his tracks on his way to his spot situated in an old world charm outdoor shopping mall with its cobblestone paths and quaint stores. Bog’s spot was on a corner just before the open courtyard turned into several pathways that led to several little shops. The acoustics in that spot were fantastic. He had claimed it early and it had been his spot for the last year. All the other buskers knew that was Bog’s spot. The people that came to hear him on a regular basis knew that was his spot, but right now some woman (granted a very beautiful pixie of a woman with short brown hair with a punk-like edge to it, especially with the purple streaks in it) was sitting there with her cello and playing. (He noted the cello was a well worn instrument that she clearly loved by the way she held it.) 

IN HIS SPOT! 

Bog growled and walked over, carrying his instruments with him ready to start a fight he planned on winning. 

The young woman was currently playing Bach Suite No. 1 Prelude and she was playing beautifully. She had her eyes closed as she played, giving herself over to the music in a way that was sexy, the sexiest thing Bog had ever seen he realized. He sucked his lips in staring at her. 

He glanced around to see she was drawing quite a crowd too. Bog chewed his bottom lip waiting. He needed to bite this in the butt before this became a problem. He didn’t want to cause a problem or a fight, but there were busker rules that they all played by and taking someone’s spot was anathema to the busker code. 

After she had finished playing and the crowd showed their appreciation in applause and money, Bog made his approach, setting his instrument cases down at his feet. “Ah excuse me--you’re in my spot.” 

The young woman looked up, lifting a brown eyebrow at him. “What are you talking about? This is a public space.” 

Bog narrowed his eyes at her. Damn she was pretty, but… 

“I busk here every weekend and three times a week--everyone knows that,” he replied as she set her cello aside on its stand and stood up. She was adorably short (though everyone was short to him since he was easily a head over six tall. Every teacher he had ever had, had wanted him to play basketball, but sports just had never been his thing, music was what he loved). The young woman--Bog figured she was at least a good five years, maybe a little more, younger than him--only came up to his chest, but her presence made her seem far taller as she stepped close to him and looked up. 

Bog’s words were momentarily strangled in his throat as he looked down into her warm brown eyes that immediately made him wonder if they would glow after she was kissed. 

* 

Marianne tried to keep her expression neutral, but when the tall, slender, handsome man in the cool hat came up to her, she felt her heart skip a beat. He wasn’t traditionally handsome, much more unusual with his sharp cheekbones that many a model would kill for and his long, sharp chin and sexy lips, but when she stood up and looked under the hat he wore, her heart skipped another beat when she saw the most startling pair of blue eyes she had ever seen. 

She pushed her immediate attraction down hard in order to keep a hold on her annoyance. 

“Is your name on this spot?” she asked with sarcasm clear in her tone. 

“No, but I’ve been playing at this spot for the last year” the man said with a slight growl. “It’s rude.” 

“Well, you weren’t here so I don’t see how it’s rude, especially since your name isn’t on this spot,” Marianne said as she put her hands on her hips, ready to challenge him. “Besides, the acoustics are fantastic here, I don’t see why you should be able to monopolize the spot.” 

The man narrowed his gorgeous eyes at her. “Because I was the first one to set up here when they started allowing buskers in,” He growled. She detected just a hint of an accent, a sexy accent. 

Damn. 

Marianne looked around. “Well I see there are a lot of good spots around here. Why don’t you take one of those, because I’m not giving up my spot. I got here first.” 

The gorgeous blue eyed man narrowed his gaze at her again from under his hat. She could detect the soft growl that he made in the back of his throat before he hissed. “This isn’t over.” 

She smirked at him, but as he picked up his cases and stomped away. Her eyes zeroed in on his tight backside and long legs. She pressed her lips together, her cheeks burning red. He was very attractive, if maybe a little territorial. 

She turned away. No, she didn’t care, she told herself, she didn’t care one bit. 

* 

Bog muttered to himself as he stomped away. “You’re name’s not on it...who the hell does she think she is?!” 

He decided to be a bit of a jerk and set himself up just a few steps from her and across from her. The acoustics in the spot were all right, but this spot would also allow him to glare his displeasure at the pretty woman, not that he thought his glaring at her would make any difference. She had declared war. Well, she didn’t realize who she had just declared war on, now did she. 

He set his cases down and slid the chair down from where he had been carrying it on his shoulder. Once he had the chair set up where he wanted it, he set his cases down and flopped down. 

He frowned, staring at his cases before he reached down and opened them both looking between the two, then with a nasty smile, he picked up his trumpet. 

* 

She had just sat back down with her cello when the man with the blue eyes started to play a trumpet. She looked over at him, her eyes widening a little. She recognized the tune, the Happy Trumpet. Damn it, he wasn’t just annoying, he was good. 

She scowled, watching him as he stood up, all six feet plus of him, and really got into the music, moving his body while he played. She watched him for a few moments. She gazed around as the crowd began to gather around him while he played. 

When he was finished, the onlookers cheered him and tossed money in his case. There was enough of a break in the crowd that Marianne saw him glance over at her with a smirk on his face. 

Marianne glared back at him before she launched into a rendition of Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major, Prélude. 

The trumpeter answered by playing Stravinsky's Petrushka. 

Marianne muttered as she played. “So, he’s a smart ass is he…” 

She smirked and started to play Kashmir by Led Zeppelin. He answered her by changing to his guitar (she could tell even from where she was that the guitar was old, it had the look of a beloved instrument, like her cello) and began to play an acoustic version of The Final Countdown by Europe. 

Marianne growled to herself. “Jerk.” 

The two of them went back and forth for nearly two hours, playing at a little battle of tunes, but it was the last half hour that really got under Marianne’s skin. 

She had just finished playing Zoltán Kodály’s Sonata in B minor for solo cello, Op.8, mvt. III when the blue eyed man began to play his guitar again. She waited to see what he was going to play, frowning as she tried to place the tune, but then he changed the game… 

He sang! 

He didn’t have a microphone, but his voice had no problem carrying as he sang the Scorpions “Still Loving You.” 

“Time, it needs time 

To win back your love again 

I will be there 

I will be there 

Love, only love 

Can bring back your love someday…” 

* 

Marianne stared at the other busker open mouthed. 

He had his eyes closed as he sang, having removed his hat earlier. She had a pretty good view of his face as he sang, filling the words with a deep soulfulness that made Marianne’s eyes sting with emotion. 

“Damn him,” she muttered to herself as she watched him. “Damn him to hell.” 

* 

Bog watched as the pretty young woman packed up for the day. It was late and he was ready to head home too, his fingers and cheeks a bit sore from competing with the pretty--and clearly talented--woman. Though before he headed back to his apartment for the night, Bog planned on stopping at the bar for a drink and maybe a sandwich. He usually stopped by the bar to say hello to 

Theo and his wife Steph, the owners, whenever he was busking. 

He had played in their bar several times over the last few months with them booking him for gigs when he was short oo money and needed to make rent, or just because they wanted to hear him play. It was nice to have some fans who didn’t mind paying him to play music. They even let him do his own original songs, not expecting him to stay on a list of cover tunes. The three of them had developed a friendship over the last several months until Bog considered them dear friends. Heck, they had even let him babysit their daughter, a little blonde haired imp named Emmie, who Bog called Imp just to make the little girl irritated with him. He knew Emmie liked the nickname despite her protests to the contrary. 

He would be playing at Theo and Steph’s bar “The Black Primrose” next weekend for the bar’s monthly acoustics night. It was an open mike sort of thing, but usually the players that came consisted of the regulars like him and a handful of others. It was always fun and nearly always ended with all of them jamming together on the stage. 

Bog carried his instruments with him as he headed down to the bar. (He could have locked his instruments in the car, but this was safer, but sometimes Theo or Steph made requests and he ended up playing. Either way, he liked to have his instruments with him.) The bar had an old fashioned wooden carved sign that hung above the door carved with a black primrose. The sign always made Bog think of an old world pub, something straight out of some British backstreet. He smiled as he headed down the alley to the back of the bar. Theo and Steph always had him come in through the back so he could store his instruments out of the way, usually in Theo’s office. 

Setting his trumpet case down, Bog opened door then edged it open with his hip before picking up his trumpet case and heading inside. He could hear the sound of the jukebox playing, as well as the smell of beer and corned beef. 

His smile grew. 

As he walked through the kitchen heading to Theo’s office a few of the cooks in the back waved at him. The bar didn’t serve a lot of food, mostly sandwiches and burgers, but what they did serve tasted and smelled fantastic. 

“Hey Bog, how was the busking today?” Pare, one of the cooks, a large man with a friendly face and smiling eyes asked when he saw Bog. He was making several of his famous corn beef and swiss sandwiches. Just seeing them made Bog’s stomach growl in response. 

“It was all right--some woman was in my spot though,” Bog said with lifted brows. 

Pare blinked. “Seriously? Rude.” 

“Tell me about it. She kept saying my name wasn’t on the spot…” Bog grumbled. “She refused to move.” He shook his head then sighed. “Anyway, I took a spot not far from her and we sorta battled it out all afternoon.” 

“She must be new,” Pare stated with a chuckle as he laid thin slices of corn beef on the soft, slightly grilled bread, then asked. “So, battle of the buskers, eh? Was she pretty? Talented?” 

Bog grumbled again. “Yeah, she plays the cello, one of the best I’ve ever heard, and she was more than just pretty…” Bog’s voice became soft before he shook his head and glared at Pare. “...but her being pretty doesn’t matter. She took my spot and then didn’t move…” 

Pare grinned. “I don’t know, Bog. Pretty girl, plays an instrument, clearly wasn’t scared off by you, maybe the stars are lining up for you?” 

Bog made a face that had Pare chuckling. 

“I’m going to drop off my babies…” Bog muttered, then added. “Hey can you make me one of those?” He pointed with his trumpet case at the sandwiches. 

Pare laughed. “I’ll make you two.” 

Bog grinned. “Thanks buddy.” 

* 

After he dropped off his instruments, Bog headed to the front of the bar where he knew Theo and Steph would be. This time of the day, early evening, he knew Emmie would be with her grandmother, though the little Imp frequented the bar during the daylight hours. He smiled. He would have to remember to come by tomorrow during the day to drop off the gift he had for her, a little child size guitar. She had been pestering him for lessons, so he knew she would be thrilled. He planned to start her lessons next week. 

He pushed through the double doors that separated the back of the bar from the front and headed over to his seat, a stool at the far left corner of the bar where he could sit, watch the crowd, talk to Theo and Steph and just enjoy himself. He had been sitting in the same spot for nearly as long as he had been busking the same corner, everyone knew it was his spot and the stool was left open for Bog, whether he was there or not. 

He saw Theo pulling beers and Steph was over talking to a few patrons as he made his way over to his stool only to stop short. 

Sitting on his stool like she owned the damn place was that god damn beautiful cellist! Bog couldn’t believe it! What was she doing here? And how on earth did she manage to not only come to his bar, but to take his seat?! She was sitting on his stool with a bottle of beer in hand, looking down at the counter like she was contemplating something. 

Bog took a breath. This was really becoming annoying. 

He walked over to her and stopped beside her. “You know, you’re one of those people who takes two seats on a plane but only pays for one.” She turned to look up at him, blinking those big brown eyes of hers at him as he added. “That’s my seat.” 

The beautiful cellist looked up at him, wrinkling her nose. It was that stupid, sexy blue eyes guiatarist. His eyes were so blue that even under the shadow of his hat they glowed. She wrinkled her nose again before she replied. “The air up there must be thin because you clearly have brain damage.” 

Bog snarled. “What?” 

She turned on the stool to face him. “Because, last time I looked, this stool didn’t have your name on it either.” She looked down, lifting one side of her hip to look at the cushion of the stool. 

“Nope, no name, unless your name is like a symbol or something.” She smirked at him. 

Bog growled. “No, it’s not a symbol, the name’s Bog, Bog King.” 

She sipped from her beer. “Well, that’s a weird name, sure it’s not some symbol?” 

Bog growled again. “No, it’s short for Bogart.” 

Why was his growling at her so sexy Marianne wondered, that hint of an accent more clear when he became annoyed and it made her feel a sort of ripple in her gut. 

She answered him snarkily. “Well my name is Marianne, Marianne Summerfield--a normal name.” 

“Well Marianne Summerfield, with the normal name,” he said sarcastically. “You’re in my spot--again.” Bog said through his teeth, but he had a name now; Marianne. It was a pretty name, for a pretty woman. He tried not to let the fact that she was so beautiful dissuade him from being annoyed with her. 

Marianne opened her mouth to answer, ready to say something sarcastic back at the blue eyed dream boat when Theo, a short man (shorter than Marianne) with large eyes behind even larger glasses with thinning brown hair and looking like an old time Western barkeep with his white shirt, bowtie and suspenders, appeared by them. “Hey Bog, sorry about your stool, she was sitting there and I was going to tell her that this stool was on reserve, but then it got busy…” 

Bog gave Marianne a smug look. “Told you it was my seat.” 

Marianne glared at Bog. Damn him and his handsome, smug face. “Well, I guess you’ve got a challenger for this seat too.” She took a sip of her beer and turned away from him. Bog blinked in shock, glancing over at Theo who shrugged before he asked. “You want the regular?” 

“Yeah, Pare is making me a couple of corn beef sandwiches too,” he replied while glaring at Marianne who pointedly ignored him before he took the stool right next to her. He wasn’t going to let this pretty little brunette spitfire chase him away. 

Theo smiled. “Sure thing Bog. Oh hey, think you might wanna play tonight? Steph was really hoping to hear you play “Strange Magic.”” Theo glanced at Marianne and added. “It’s my wife’s favorite song.” 

Bog smiled at Theo while the other man pulled him a dry Irish stout. “Of course. Oh yeah, I got Emmie’s guitar.” 

Theo grinned, setting the tall glass filled with dark liquid in front of Bog. “Oh man, she is going to be so excited.” 

Bog chuckled. “I’ll bring it by tomorrow either before I get started or when I take a break.” 

Theo nodded. “Thanks Bog. She is going to be thrilled.” 

That was when Theo’s attention was grabbed by someone yelling for a beer. Theo smiled at both Bog and Marianne before he headed off. 

Marianne glanced sideways at Bog, then his drink. “What’s that?” 

“Stout…” He waited a beat then asked. “Want a sip?” 

Marianne frowned, then shrugged. “Sure.” 

Bog shoved the glass at her just as his sandwiches were brought to him by Steph, a tall woman (not as tall as Bog) with broad shoulders and thick dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail. “Hey Bog…” She glanced at Marianne with a lifted brow, but said nothing about the young woman in Bog’s seat as Marianne took a sip of the stout, made a face, then said with a frown. “Taste a little like bitter chocolate coffee.” 

Bog took his drink back. “It’s not for everyone.” 

Marianne glanced at him, then turned to Steph. “Can I have a dry Irish stout?” 

Steph glanced between the two of them, followed by a sly smile. “Sure thing hon.” 

She hurried off as Bog picked up one of his sandwiches with a smirk and took a large bite. 

“You’re one of those guys that can eat a lot and never puts on any weight, aren’t you?” Marianne looked at the two large sandwiches. 

Bog shrugged. “Yeah.” 

Marianne looked away, but she kept watching him from the corner of her eye before she asked. “So you play here?” 

Bog chewed, taking a sip of his drink before he answered. “I do sometimes.” 

“And you give guitar lessons?” She looked at the glass of dark liquid that Steph set down in front of her. 

“I do sometimes,” Bog answered. 

Marianne wrinkled her nose in annoyance at him repeating the same answer like a damn parrot. 

Steph piped up. “Theo said you got Emmie a guitar?” 

Bog nodded. “I did. I think she’ll love it, it’s pink just like she requested. I told Theo I’d start her lessons next week.” 

Step laughed. “Lovely. You gonna play tonight?” 

“Soon as I’m done eating,” Bog replied with a smile taking another large bite out of his sandwich. 

Steph grinned at him before she hurried down the bar to help someone calling back. “She’s gonna be bouncing off the walls when she finds out.” 

Bog chuckled in response around his bite of sandwich. 

Marianne reached over to snag one of the potato chips off Bog’s plate, popping it into her mouth before she asked. “So who’s Emmie?” 

Bog gave her an annoyed look and pulled his plate closer to him before he answered. “Their daughter, she’s seven. I babysit her sometimes and she’s been bugging me to teach her how to play.” 

Marianne took a sip of her drink before reaching over his arm that he had placed in front of the plate and snagged another chip. 

Bog glared at her. “You have some sort of issue with personal spaces? Or is it just mine?” 

Marianne smirked at him before she popped the chip into her mouth; her perfect, cute, kissable mouth he noticed with more annoyance. “Apparently it seems to be just you.” 

Bog grumbled under his breath, taking another bite of his sandwich and ignoring her as she snagged chips off his plate. 

He ate in silence with Marianne beside him taking chips off his plate. When he was finished, he wiped his hands on his jeans and stood up. 

“Be right back,” Bog murmured, not sure why he was telling her. She might just be the most annoying person he had ever met, but at the same time he shoved his plate with the remainder of his chips at her before he walked off. 

Marianne watched him go, her eyes raking over his backside again only to have her thoughts broken into by Steph murmuring. “He’s a handsome man isn’t he?” 

Marianne jumped, not having heard or seen the bartender come over, but quickly recovered and shrugged. “I suppose.” 

Steph put her hand out. “I’m Steph. I own this place with my husband.” She indicated the little man in glasses. “Bog’s been a regular here for a while now. He’s more a member of the family than a customer anymore. Our daughter Emmie adores him,” she said with a smile. “You’ll never meet a nicer, sweeter man than Bog King.” 

Marianne picked up a chip from Bog’s plate, contemplating the chip for a moment before she asked. “So, ah, is he single?” 

Steph smiled as she wiped her hands on her apron. “He is. Hasn’t had a girlfriend or been on a date in years. The last girlfriend he had was before Theo and I knew him and from what Bog said, it ended very badly.” Steph leaned closer. “The girl cheated on him. Really wrecked him; he’s been single ever since. I think it’s been a few years now.” 

Marianne rubbed her lips together. “I know how that feels,” she muttered. 

Steph leaned on the counter. “So, ah, you interested?” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose. “No,” Marianne scoffed. “I was just making conversation.” 

“Ah...I understand.” Steph smiled, pushing herself back up straight. “Would you like some more chips?” she asked, indicating the plate in front of Marianne. The shorter woman shook her head. “Nah, but thanks.” 

Steph smiled and nodded walking off to help some other customers. 

Marianne frowned. Why was she asking? She wasn’t interested in him, was she? Yeah he was handsome, talented, sexy… 

But he was a little bit of a jerk...sort of...he was fun to annoy...and if she was honest, playing against him today had been fun, a lot of fun. He really pushed her, which she liked... 

She was still contemplating her feelings about this man she had just met when she caught sight of him walking over to the bar’s small stage, his guitar case in one hand and carrying a footdrum in the other. Her heartbeat picked up... 

* 

Bog kept a basic foot drum here. He had several: one he sometimes used when he was busking that was at his apartment, one he kept here for when he played the bar, and another he kept in the car. He had a tendency to forget them, which was why he had more than one, planted in three locations. He walked up to the stage and set everything down before he pulled the stool over and began messing with the microphone, his mind on Marianne. She was prettier up close, sitting next to him with those big brown eyes, cute nose, and rosebud mouth…. and god was she annoying! She was the most annoying woman he had ever met! Taking chips off his plate like she had a right to them! 

Bog muttered, took his hat off, and dropped next to his guitar case. The thought of her sparkling eyes made him feel like his jeans were too tight. “Taking my busking spot, then my bar stool…” 

He sighed finishing with the microphone, telling himself to stop thinking about her as he set his drum in position and pulled out his guitar before he sat on the stool. He took a few minutes to tune before he leaned into the microphone with a smile. 

“Evening everyone--ready for some music?” 

The crowd cheered. 

Marianne turned around on the stool, her breath taken away as she gazed at Bog King. He had taken his hat off. His dark hair was messy and he ran his fingers through it, one curl falling against his forehead. His smile was infectious, with his slightly crooked teeth, and she liked the way his smile reached his eyes making little wrinkles around those incredible eyes of his. It made Marianne feel that rippling tickle in her gut again. 

Bog grinned. “Well, let’s start with a little Priestess, eh?” 

The crowd cheered their approval. 

Bog started to tap his foot, setting the drum to a beat before he started to play his guitar, his fingers moving over the instrument with a skill and grace that made Marianne feel warm all over. He leaned into the microphone. His voice had a rough growl from the back of his throat that was present in his speech, causing that tickling ripple to spread through Marianne as he sang. 

“Lay down, sleep my little darling 

I'll be nothing when you're gone 

Lay down just like in a coffin 

Then I'll have nothing but a song 

Could I leave you in a coffin for real 

And just leave you in a church…” 

* 

Marianne didn’t realize her mouth was slightly open as she watched and listened to Bog play and sing, mesmerized by him. 

Steph was standing behind the bar with her husband when she noticed the look on Marianne’s face. She elbowed her husband and pointed at Marianne. Theo frowned, confused for a moment before he saw the pretty brunette staring at Bog. He smiled slowly and looked up at his wife. 

Steph leaned down and whispered. “We have got to get them together somehow.” 

Theo chuckled. “I agree darling.” 

* 

Marianne sat still listening to Bog play without once touching her drink. He sang several songs, covering a wide variety of music, though his voice really shone when he sang ballads or anything with an edge (he could really growl in a sexy way.) He sang acoustic versions from “Addicted to Love” to the “Skye Boat Song” showing off his skills. She also was impressed that he had been playing all afternoon, yet still played for an hour on stage this evening. 

He laughed while singing a drinking song that had the entire crowd singing along with him. The crowd sang along while stomping their feet and clapping their hands in tune to the song as Bog leaned into the microphone. His accent that she couldn’t quite place because it was so light came on heavy and strong with the drinking song...Scottish...damn she thought. Why did it have to be Scottish? 

Bog grinned impishly as he sang the last bit of the song. 

“O lad I don't know where you been but I see you won first prize 

Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh 

O lad I don't know where you've been but I see you won first prize…” 

* 

The crowd screamed with laughter and Marianne had to put her hand over her mouth not to laugh, but Bog looked over at her, their eyes meeting and she giggled. Damn him! 

Bog chuckled. “All right everyone, time for my last song…” 

The crowd protested, but Bog only smiled. “Sorry, gonna be out on the streets tomorrow morning, so if you want to hear more that’s where you can find me. Now the last song is a special request, and I’ll add one of my favorite songs. A request by one of the owners of the Black Primrose, a lovely woman with a heart of gold, Steph Goble.” 

Everyone turned toward the bar as Bog pointed over to Steph. Almost everyone here knew Steph Goble personally. Theo laughed, hugging his wife when she blushed and waved a dish towel at Bog to make him stop. 

Bog grinned in her direction, his eyes quickly glancing over at Marianne before he said into the mic. 

“Time for some Strange Magic.” 

Marianne blinked. Strange Magic? Was he serious? That was her favorite song!! That fucking asshole!! 

Bog reached down and took a sip from the glass of water that Theo had brought him during his set before he began to play his guitar. Marianne’s heart beat quickly as he played. He added some fingering to the song that suited it just beautifully and made her turn to mush on the inside. Jerk! 

He leaned close to the mic, his eyes partly closed as he began to sing. 

“You're sailing softly through the sun 

In a broken stone age dawn 

You fly so high 

I get a strange magic 

Oh, what a strange magic 

Oh, it's a strange magic 

Got a strange magic 

Got a strange magic…” 

Marianne felt that tickling ripple in her stomach expand and spread. It reached into every part of her. Bog’s voice was soft, yet strong, that Scottish brogue was once more light, but with a softness that set her insides on fire. He closed his eyes while he sang, tapping out the beat lightly on the drum while his fingers moved like magic over the strings of his guitar. 

“You're walking meadows in my mind 

Making waves across my time 

Oh no, oh no…” 

* 

As he continued, somehow his simple guitar and the drum elevated the song until she would have sworn up and down that he had an entire band with him. He swayed lightly to the music while he sang, opening his eyes slowly, his blue eyes catching hers. She felt a liquid heat rush right down through her to her groin. 

Marianne swore her heart stopped a beat as he sang to her. Those blue eyes of his stared right at her! 

* 

“Oh, I'm never gonna be the same again 

Now I've seen the way it's got to end 

Sweet dream, sweet dream…” 

* 

That fucking bastard!! Marianne growled to herself. She was going to get even with him somehow, starting with making sure she was there first to take that perfect busking spot from him again. 

She’d show him! 

* 

Bog purred the last line of the song, his eyes on Marianne. “Got a strange magic...strange magic…” He wasn't sure what was going on, but looking at Marianne made him feel so strange, hot, tight. Her eyes were like magic, the way she blinked, those thick, dark lashes framing those beautiful eyes, her purple streaked hair… 

His jeans felt uncomfortably tight. 

He ended the song, turning his attention back to the crowd, which broke out into a heavy, loud applause. He smiled at the audience, though his gaze strayed to Marianne. 

* 

By the time he had finished Marianne felt as if he had dug into her soul and...and...well...that jerk!! 

While Bog’s attention was on the audience, Marianne hurriedly got up and left, determined that tomorrow she was going to make him pay for being so...so...sexy and annoying! 

* 

When Bog was walking off the stage, he noticed that Marianne had left. He felt a strange sense of disappointment, but he knew without a doubt he would see her tomorrow, except he was going to be in his spot and not her. 

He smirked devilishly. 

* 

Marianne woke up early, singing to herself happily as she got ready for a good day of busking...and taking Bog King’s spot! Then she was gonna hit the Black Primrose and take that spot too! She snickered to herself pulling on a thin, purple sweater that hung over her jeans to her midthigh, she pulled on a pair of kneehigh boots, styled her hair and packed her cello, except she was bringing her violin too. If Bog King thought he could outdo her with two instruments, then he was in for a rude surprise when she brought two as well!! 

She thought about singing, but changed her mind. She wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t feel that her singing voice was that strong... 

She shook herself and grabbed her things, carrying her cello down first to her car. He was going to be so shocked when he saw her in his spot again. 

She laughed wickedly as she loaded her cello. 

* 

When Marianne arrived that morning, juggling her instrument cases, she stopped in her tracks. Bog King was already there!! That bastard!! She couldn’t believe it!! 

He was sitting in that prime spot, wearing tight jeans, a black shirt with a denim shirt over the top and with his damn hat on his head. Not only did she notice he had another instrument case with him (which she couldn’t identify from where she stood), but the moment he laid eyes on her--as if he had been waiting--he started to play his guitar and sang out. His voice was clear and sexy with that stupid accent of his giving the words a roll that she felt down her spine. 

“I've been mistreated 

I've been abused 

I've been struck downhearted, baby 

I've been confused 

'Cause I know, yes, I know 

I've been mistreated…” 

* 

Oh this wasn’t over, Marianne thought, her eyes narrowed. He wanted war, well he just got war. 

* 

Bog smirked watching her go set up in the spot he had taken yesterday. 

He sang loudly, just for her, drawing out the last word. “I’ve been mistreated…” 

She thought she knew the game, well he was going to show her that she was in way over her head.


	2. Chapter 2

While playing “Moonlight Sonata” on his guitar, Bog tried to keep up his glare at Marianne’s back, but he was failing. His eyes kept straying to her incredible backside whenever she bent over. 

She was far too distracting for him to keep up his scrowling. On the plus side, he had beaten her to the spot, and he knew that would annoy her. 

He quickly turned his gaze away, letting the music take over instead of letting himself be seduced by that...siren and her tight little...no...No, no, focus on playing Bog, he reminded himself. He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t stop himself from opening one eyelid a crack to watch her. She had two cases, he noticed; her cello and...Oh shit...a violin. Bog pressed his lips together in annoyance. He found nothing sexier than a woman who played the violin, well except a woman playing a cello... 

Bog shook his head. Nope, he had to stop it. 

He knew what would help. He would play something difficult on the guitar. He tapped his foot, keeping his eyes closed and started to play, combining the tapping of his foot along with the strings and adding percussion by tapping against his guitar. 

* 

Marianne was tuning her violin when she heard Bog change his tune. She glanced over, her mouth dropping open slightly while watching him. He had his eyes closed, his entire body moving with the music, his feet and hands supplying the beat as well as his fingers dancing across the strings, he moved between the sounds with a fluidity that would have made one think he was playing more than one instrument simultaneously. 

He was playing Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water,” a classic! Damn him. 

He had drawn quite the crowd already, some of who were clapping in beat with him. That son-of-a-bitch, Marianne thought. First he takes the prime spot and now he thinks he can show off with his clear talent and passion?! Well, fuck that heavenly blue eyed jerk! 

Two could play at that game. 

* 

Bog had just finished his song when Marianne began to play. His head jerked up and he stared. She was playing N. Paganini Caprice no. 5 on her violin, a difficult and passionate piece of music. 

The crowd that he had gathered moved toward Marianne, and who could blame them? She was like a siren from the sea calling men to their death with her music. She played with such skill, such passion that he was sure Paganini himself would have thrown himself at her feet. 

Bog groaned. Man, she was so damn hot… 

But he couldn’t let this stand. She had clearly issued another challenge to him. 

* 

Smirking just a little, Marianne was sure that while Bog may have secured the prime spot--this morning anyway--she had just shown him up as she brought the music to an end and the crowd applauded her. Within a few heartbeats, the sound of a harmonica broke through the sound of the crowd’s appreciation. 

A harmonica?? 

Marianne, along with the crowd, turned to look at Bog. He had one of those neck holders around him that held the harmonica for him. He still had his guitar and was using the foot drum. She had heard harmonica players here and there, but Bog was good. Was there an instrument he wasn’t good with she wondered. Bog played the harmonica, then after a few seconds he started to play the guitar before he stopped with the harmonica and sang again. 

God she wished he wouldn’t sing!! His voice was like honey! 

“Fools of faith surrounding me in 

Shades of green 

Rats and snakes they always try to 

Get the best of me, but they won't 

Ever know when the time is right to…” 

Marianne bit her bottom lip watching and listening to him. She could listen to him sing all day, every day. She thought about singing herself, but that was the one thing she was too scared to do, expose her voice, ever since her ex-boyfriend had told her she sounded like a harpy… 

She pushed that thought away. She didn’t need a voice, she just needed to play her music. 

* 

The next couple of hours Bog and Marianne played back and forth. If she played classical he would counter with rock, if she played rock, he countered with classical. It was the most fun Marianne had had since yesterday! No one had ever pushed her like Bog did. She had to give Bog King props too. The man was talented and her annoyance with him just made her better, made her enjoy her playing even more--and she loved it. She was smiling so much by the time lunch rolled around that her cheeks hurt. 

She sat down on the chair she had brought, stretching out her fingers between restringing her violin and occasionally taking a drink from a soda that one of her admirers had bought her when she saw a little girl somewhere between six and eight years old (she wasn’t sure since she didn't really have a lot of experience with kids. Unless they were babies, she had a hard time figuring out how old they were) skipping down the cobblestone path. The little girl had her hair up in pigtails that bounced with her. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white in the watery autumn afternoon light. She had elven-like features and wore cute little denim overalls with a pink and white striped long sleeve shirt underneath and a red sweater decorated with little rosebuds over the top. As the little girl skipped, the pair of sparkling pink shoes she wore caught the light. She was carrying two takeout bags with her, that she swung back and forth as she skipped. 

Marianne grinned. She was a really cute little girl. All kids were cute to some degree, but some kids were especially so, and this was one of those especially cute kids. 

Marianne noticed that the little girl picked up speed and ran straight at Bog. She was running at full speed, the tall man just barely having enough time to put his guitar down and to put his arms out before the little girl slammed into him. Bog laughed, a beautiful sound Marianne could hear ringing off the walls of the buildings as he wrapped his long arms around the little girl and lifted her off her feet and spun her around. 

The little girl squealed holding onto the bags (she had a good grip Marianne noted) while at the same time she held onto Bog squealing loudly as he spun her around. 

“How’s my little Imp?!” Bog asked. 

Marianne smiled. That must be Emmie. 

Her guess was right as she saw Theo walk up a few seconds later, carrying a drink carrier with four drinks. 

Emmie squealed. “I’m not an IMP!” 

“Yes you are!! You are my little IMP!” Bog swung her around one more time before he set her down. 

Marianne smiled softly. He looked adorable dropping down into a crouch to talk to Emmie. He was good with kids too. She sighed. Handsome, talented, good with children, had an accent… 

Ugh Marianne, stop it! She growled to herself and turned to work on her bow. She did not need to let herself be distracted by the enemy, no matter how hot he was… 

But as she restrung her bow, her brown eyes lifted, watching them with a smile. 

* 

Emmie grinned proudly at Bog once he set her down on her feet. He crouched down so he could see her at eye level, smiling at her and giving one of her pigtails a very gentle, playful tug. 

“So what’s in the bags?” hH asked lifting a brow for a dramatic look of interest.. 

“I brought you lunch!” Emmie declared holding one bag out to him. 

“You did?” Bog looked surprised and pleased. “Did you make it yourself? Is it a mudpie?” 

Emmie wrinkled her nose. “No it’s not a mud pie!! You can’t eat that silly. It’s a sandwich! Pare let me help!” She leaned close and whispered. “I got to put on the horseradish.” 

Bog chuckled and took the bag from her. He opened the top to peek inside. He was greeted by the scent of warm slices of turkey and horseradish. Bog knew the sandwich would also have mayo, swiss cheese and coleslaw on grilled rye bread. The sandwich was called the Steph, named after Theo’s wife and another one of Bog’s favorites sandwiches from the Black Primrose. Pare was both a master of a sandwich, and--next to his mother--the only reason Bog kept on any weight at all. Otherwise he would forget to eat and be skin and bones. 

Bog glanced up with a grin as Theo arrived. “Thanks man.” He motioned at the bag. 

Theo smiled, lifting the drinks. “Brought you a coke too. Figured you would need something to drink too.” 

“Thank you both,” Bog said, at the same time tugging on one of the little girl’s ponytails again with a smirk causing Emmie to smack at him with a giggle. 

“Stop!!” she cried though she didn't move out of the way. 

“So what’s in the other bag?” he asked her while he pulled out his sandwich. 

Emmie grinned, having run over to brush her fingers against Bog’s guitar with the worshipful expression of someone deeply in love as she replied. “I brought one for that girl too.” She turned and pointed at Marianne. “When do I get to start my lessons? I love my guitar Bog!” Emmie grinned brightly, her eyes bright with happiness and excitement. “It’s so pretty and you got it in pink just like you promised!” 

Bog stiffened slightly. She brought a sandwich for Marianne too, not that he was upset about it, but Marianne was his competition for space… 

She was the enemy, though he supposed enemies needed to eat too. 

He frowned, glancing over at Marianne who was busy with her instruments. She looked adorable, her head bent over working on her strings… 

“Well, I’ll talk to your mom and dad and we’ll set up a day to start, but I want you to practice those couple of cords I showed you, remember?” Bog asked tearing his attention from Marianne to once more focus on Emmie. 

Emmie grinned. “I do remember!! I will.” She giggled with happiness, causing Bog to chuckle. He figured Emmie was going to be a great guitarist someday. 

He smiled and gave Emmie a kiss on her forehead as the little girl hopped back over to him. “I’m sure she’ll really like the sandwich Emmie. Did you help make it too?” 

Emmie nodded. “I did!” 

Bog grinned. “Well, why don’t you give her the sandwich? Her name is Marianne,” he told Emmie, booping the tip of her nose with his finger. 

Emmie giggled and looked at her father. “Can I give her the sandwich by myself?” 

Theo glanced over at Marianne and then at Bog who smiled. “I think it’s fine. Marianne may be a jerk to me, but she seems nice enough to other people.” 

Theo chuckled. “Mm...maybe she’s a jerk to you because she likes you?” 

Bog made a face. “That only applies to schoolyard romances Theo.” 

Theo laughed, turning his attention back to his daughter. “Okay, Emmie…” he pulled one of the drinks from the holder and handed it to Emmie, making sure she had a good grip before he let go. 

“Now be careful not to spill this and don't stop or talk to anyone else and make sure you stay in my line of sight, and no skipping while you have the drink.” 

Emmie wrinkled her nose at him. “Yes Daddy.” 

Theo smiled with a nod. “All right sweetie, go on.” 

The little girl started to skip across the way toward Marianne, but stopped herself with a look at her father over her shoulder and began to walk at a pace that bordered on skipping. 

Bog watched Marianne while taking a sip of his soda. “So, ah, why’d you bring her a sandwich?” he asked Theo. 

Theo shrugged. “Steph heard you two were at it again today and she figured you both needed feeding.” Theo glanced over at Marianne who was talking to Emmie before he asked. “She's coming by the bar later too?” 

Bog narrowed his eyes. “Probably. I won this morning getting this spot. I wouldn’t put it past her to try and snag my stool again. She is a crafty, wicked woman.” 

Theo smirked and added. “And pretty.” 

“Yeah, she’s damn pretty…” Bog muttered then frowned. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He glanced at Theo who laughed. 

“You know, you two might try being nice to each other…” 

Bog snorted. “I don’t negotiate with the enemy.” He took a large bite of his sandwich, which only made Theo laugh. 

* 

Emmie stopped in front of Marianne, holding a lidded cup with a straw and a white paper bag. She stared at Marianne who stared back at her 

After another second Marianne asked. “You Emmie?” 

Emmie nodded. “Uhuh. Bog said your name was Marianne.” 

She nodded. “It is. Can I help you?” 

“I brought you this,” Emmie shoved the bag and drink at her. 

Marianne smiled and took the offerings. “Thank you. What’s in the bag?” 

“A sandwich I helped make. Bog has the same one. Pare says it's his favorite or one of Bog’s favorites. He also says that Bog needs to eat more and that he would die if other people didn’t look out for him.” Emmie frowned. “I don’t like that.” 

“Don’t like what?” Marianne asked pulling out the sandwich, which smelled fantastic causing her stomach to rumble and remind her that she was hungry. 

“Dying. I don’t want Bog to die. My grandma died, it was sad and I miss her. Bog is going to teach me to play the guitar like him.” Emmie grinned. The young girl’s quick change of tone and topic nearly had Marianne getting whiplash. 

“He is?” Marianne asked with a smile. 

Emmie nodded, walking over to lightly touch Marianne’s cello. “What’s this?” 

“It’s a cello and this instrument…” She indicated her violin. “Is a violin.” 

“Can you teach me to play a cello?” Emmie asked with awe. 

“Sure.” Marianne smiled again, but this time when Emmie turned to look at her the little girl said with her own smile. 

“Mommy says you and Bog would be good boyfriend and girlfriend. Are you going to be Bog’s girlfriend?” 

Marianne blanked, not sure at all how to react to that question except to mutter. “What?” 

“Yeah, my Mommy says that Bog likes you a lot, she can tell. Do you like Bog?” Emmie asked with wide eyes. 

Marianne groaned. She was going to have to be nice. “I uh, don’t dislike him, he’s just a bit grumpy.” 

Emmie giggled. “No he’s not. Bog is never grumpy…” She frowned in thought. “No, sometimes he’s grumpy, but he’s never grumpy to me. I think you’re pretty, you should be his girlfriend. I think he gets lonely. BYE!” Emmie waved and skipped off back to Bog and her father. 

Marianne watched her go as she felt her cheeks reddening. 

* 

After lunch Marianne set up her cello, but she frowned. Theo and Emmie were still hanging out with Bog. Maye he was done for the day. If he moved, she could take his spot for a couple of hours before it got dark… 

She started playing something soft, since Bog had not given her a clue what he was going to be playing yet. She felt a little tingle of anticipation as she played "Für Elise '' and saw Bog messing with that third case he had brought with him while Emmie stood next to him. Marianne couldn’t see what the lifted out of it until he sat back. 

Emmie giggled, jumping out of the way, a small tambourine in her hand and in Bog’s lap was a hurdy gurdy. What the actual fuck! Marianne yelled quietly to herself. 

He took a few moments, he added the soft thump of the foot drum before he began playing the hurdy gurdy, filling the space with music from the medieval period. Emmie banged the tamborine along with him, adding an extra layer to the music. 

Marianne frowned with a shake of her head. She had lost this round. 

* 

Theo let Emmie stay to play tambourine for Bog on four songs before Bog and Marianne continued their battle, though his music was unusual enough with the hurdy gurdy that it was clear he was drawing a larger crowd. 

When they finally finished for the day, Bog was packing up as quick as he could. He was going to beat her to the bar. He had no doubt, whatsoever that Marianne was aiming for the bar stool next. 

He grinned to himself. He was going to beat her. 

* 

Marianne tried to hurry, but she already knew she had lost before she arrived at the Black Primrose because she had been stopped by a couple of people asking about her having a CD available of her music, which was great and all, but talking to them had eaten up precious time. When she finally arrived at the bar, she wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Bog already on the stool with a pint in hand. 

He saw her the moment she entered the bar. Clearly he had been waiting for her and raised his glass to her with a grin. 

Marianne snarled and gave him the middle finger. 

Bog only chuckled. 

* 

Over the next two weeks Bog and Marianne developed a routine, each one competing to get to the prime busking spot or the stool at the bar. It had become a game. They had even begun adding jabs at one another, shouted across the way in addition to their competing music. Their competition began to draw larger crowds each day to hear them play and yell playfully at each other. 

Marianne had learned through their fighting that Bog was extremely talented--more so than she already thought he was. He seemed to know how to play pretty much anything he put his mind to, in addition to the fact that he had a voice that could make her insides turn to goo. Heck, today he had brought a mandolin and a clarinet! She always felt as if he were one step ahead of her in their little competition because he sang--not often--but enough that she felt he was the better of the two of them. 

While Bog had learned that Marianne was a confident musician, she did not sing. He had tried to lure her into singing one day during their musical jabs at one another, but Marianne’s reaction, wide eyed shame and maybe a little bit of terror which he had seen clearly on her face had her immediately shrinking back. That reaction from her had hit him like a punch to the gut. He had wanted to race across the space and take her into his arms and apologize to her for being such a jerk. 

He had quickly thrown out that she couldn’t play anything by Tchaikovsky which had distracted her. Her transformation back into the cocky, irritatingly smug Marianne he had grown to love had been a relief. 

He realized at the moment that while they were enemies, he never wanted to hurt her ever again, not for anything in the world. 

Tonight at the bar, Bog had managed to beat her there, though for the last two days she had been the victorious one claiming the stool for herself. As she walked into the Black Primrose, Marianne saw Bog sipping from a bottle of beer, looking sexy in a pair of tight jeans and a black shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and slender stomach in a way that made her blood rush straight down to her...nevermind, Marianne she told herself. But as they had been doing over the last week, whoever got here first ordered a drink and food for the other. Marianne grinned. She saw a bottle of her favorite beer waiting for her along with a plate that held a corned beef sandwich for her and a lot of chips. 

Marianne chuckled, blushing at the same time as she headed over and took her second place spot. 

“Hey,” Bog said with a shy smile, doing his best not to look her up and down, though he really wanted to. She was wearing leggings with a purple mini shirt and a sweater that hugged her breasts. Ugh, stop looking Bog, he reminded himself before he spoke. 

“I really liked your electric violin piece this afternoon,” he said with an earnest tone. He felt shy for some reason. 

Marianne had brought out the big guns this afternoon, dragging out her amplifier to play her electric violin, something she hadn’t done since she started busking. She blushed. “Thank you.” Then added. 

“Don’t you play an electric guitar? I mean, I’m just assuming you do…” Marianne asked as she popped a chip into her mouth. 

“Oh I do, that’s what I’m saving for with the busking, a new electric guitar. My last one got damaged during a road trip. There is this gorgeous swamp ash wood guitar. The wood finish has this dark, almost grey quality to it…” Bog’s voice became soft and dreamy causing Marianne to smile. 

“Sounds beautiful,” she said with a grin. 

Bog chuckled blushing. “It is. Anyway, I’m saving for it. The guy who owns the shop has her on hold for me. I still have a way to go, but...” He shrugged then glanced shyly at her. “Ah...it’s at the music store a block down from where we play. I could take you to see it--if you want?” 

Marianne felt her cheeks heat up, but she nodded. “I would like to see it...I mean her...are all guitars hers?” she asked. 

Bog blushed again and nodded. “I mean, they are to me...at least that one is. I figure since you treat your guitar like a lover, caress the neck, stroke the strings…” Bog took a quick gulp of his beer, his ears turning red, then muttered. “Okay, this is an embarrassing conversation.” 

Marianne laughed. “Don’t be, my cello is a he and you’re right. We treat favorite instruments like intimate companions, so believe me, I understand.” 

Bog glanced sideways at her, the dim lighting of the bar dancing across her face. She was just so pretty. He didn’t just like her--he respected her as an artist, as a person. 

He wrinkled his nose then asked quietly. “So, why don’t you sing?” 

Marianne had just taken a bit of her sandwich, the question catching her off guard. She chewed and swallowed before picking up her beer and taking a long drink before she answered. 

She pressed her lips together then said softly, finding that she wanted to tell him. She wanted to confide in the man she had taken as her rival. “It was my ex-boyfriend. I mean, we broke up forever ago, but he used to say these little things that really got under my skin and one of those was that he was always criticizing my singing.” 

Bog frowned. “Sounds like a world class asshole.” 

“Oh he was…” Marianne said. “...and the intellectual part of me knows he was lying and that he would say these things to keep me under his control, to make me feel bad on purpose to make himself feel better, but I just…” She shrugged. “...I still can’t help but be affected by the things he said to me.” 

Bog nodded and whispered. “I understand, my ex-girlfriend was the same way. She was a musician too…” 

Marianne nodded. “Roland was a singer.” 

Bog smiled his understanding. “My ex used to put me down too, criticize my singing, my playing...pretty much my entire existence. I think she was just with me to make herself feel better.” He pressed his lips together before speaking again. “Anywho...took me a while to get over it, so I understand.” He reached out to lay his hand over hers. It was the first time they had really touched each other and the feeling was like a shock to both their systems. 

They both stared at each other. 

Marianne slowly rotated her hand around to hold Bog’s hand when the moment was suddenly broken. 

“Hey guys, I had a couple of customers asking if either one of you would be playing tonight?” They both snatched their hands away like they were on fire, both of their heads snapping around to stare at Theo who had walked over. Over the last week Bog and Marianne had brought their competition into the bar, not just over the stool spot, but by performing on the little stage. 

Bog smiled and shrugged, his cheeks still red. “Sure, ah...maybe we could play a duet or something…?” He looked questioningly at Marianne who looked surprised at his suggestion. Usually they had each played on the stage separately, but a duet… 

“Ah...sure,” Marianne responded. 

Theo grinned. “Oh cool, so playing together? That’ll be different. Well, whenever you’re done eating feel free to take the stage.” 

Theo walked way to fill a drink order and Marianne blinked at Bog. “What could we play together?” 

Bog smirked. “Do you know Bach?” 

Marianne gave him a withering look. “Do I know Bach? Is that hat you wear a little too tight around the old noggin?” 

Bog chuckled. “Good, how about I play my mandolin and you get your cello?” 

Marianne giggled. “All right, let’s do it.” 

* 

They ate their food in record time and were soon sitting side by side on the stage as the bar’s small audience waiting with baited breath. 

Bog tuned his mandolin while Marianne did the same before he gave her a grin. “Ready?” 

Marianne smirked at him. “The question is: are you ready?” 

Bog chuckled and began to play, his fingers picking out the tune gracefully. Marianne recognized what he was playing and quickly picked up her bow, falling in with Bog as if they had been playing together for years. 

They played a piece by Bach, then, with a smirk that Marianne caught from the corner of her eye, Bog switched music. She didn’t stumble, but she did slow her playing to figure out what he had switched to… 

Oh! She grinned as she realized it was Tool’s “Lateralus.” 

Ha! He thought he could trip her up, did he? Well, she’d show him. Marianne knew the song, but there wasn’t a cello version that she knew so she quickly made one up on the spot, adding the deep sounds of her cello to Bog’s mandolin. 

Marianne grinned. She could play the same game, so after a few more measures of Tool, she switched to Guns and Roses “Welcome to the Jungle.” 

Bog smirked at her, flexing his fingers for a moment before he launched into the same song. 

Together for the next hour Bog and Marianne played, taking turns to switch in the middle of whatever piece of music they were playing, forcing the other one to catch up and usually improvise. By the time they were done they were both exhilarated and the audience was thrilled. They were both panting a little, a fine sweat causing their skin to shimmer in the pale light as they stared at each other, their eyes bright like stars. The draw between them was so strong, so magnetic that neither one of them realized they were leaning toward each other until Theo came up to the stage grinning. 

“That was great! You two should perform this weekend at the acoustic night! It would be epic!” Theo laughed. 

Bog blushed glancing at Marianne, who smiled and bit her bottom lip shyly. “I don’t mind if you don’t.” 

Bog grinned. “Sure, why not? I think we sound good together.” 

“We do actually,” Marianne answered. 

Theo clapped his hands together in excitement. “Fantastic!!!” 

He hurried away leaving Bog and Marianne alone. 

* 

When Theo returned to the bar, his wife elbowed him hard. “Ow! What was that for?” Theo groused, but his wife hissed. “They were having a moment and you broke it Theo!” 

Theo looked back at them, but Marianne and Bog were walking off the stage. “I did?” 

Steph sighed. “God, I think we’ve been married too long if you didn’t recognize their moment.” 

Theo pouted. “Now don’t say that.” He stepped in close to his wife, wrapping his arms around her thick waist. “Makes it sound like I’m boring.” 

Steph grinned and giggled girlishly. “You are definitely not boring between the sheets lover.” 

Theo grinned. “Well, how about after we close for the night I show you just how exciting I can be...I mean we are still trying for baby number two…” He waggled his eyebrows at her. 

Steph laughed kissing his nose. “True, very true.” 

Theo grinned up at her, then asked quietly. “So what “thing” did I miss?” 

“Bog and Marianne, I think they’re in love, just haven’t realized it yet,” Steph said, releasing her husband to pull down a liquor bottle. 

Theo frowned looking surprised. “As much as those two gripe at each other? Are you sure?” 

Steph smiled at her husband. “Yes, I’m sure.” 

Theo chuckled. “Well, I think they would be good together.” 

Steph smiled softly. “Yeah, me too--just hope they realize it.” 

* 

Bog followed Marianne off the stage. “Ah...the shop...tomorrow...opens around nine. We could meet at the busking spot and then walk down together...if you want or I can just give you the direct...” he started, but Marianne said softly, her sweet voice cutting through his words. “9 am sounds perfect.” 

Bog chuckled. “Oh...well..okay then.” 

* 

Bog had never been this nervous before. He was waiting at the busking spot they both fought over, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He was pacing back and forth. He had taken a little more care with his clothing today, dressing in a dark blue dress shirt, black jeans, and a pair of black leather ankle boots. He had his hat on, pulled low over his features. He licked his lips for the hundredth time. Why was he nervous?? It wasn’t like he didn’t know Marianne, they were enemies, competition, he supposed sorta friends… 

But this was different. 

He was sharing something that meant a lot to him, something intimate. Bog wrinkled his nose in annoyance with himself. He knew his feelings for her had changed but damn… 

He kicked at a tiny pebble in his annoyance with himself. He had just turned around when he saw her coming toward him like a dream. 

She was wearing fishnet stockings with a purple layered skirt, a cute little flowered top with a denim jacket and purple high tops. Bog was sure his heart skipped a beat and it suddenly became hard to breathe. 

* 

Marianne sucked in a breath when Bog turned and she got a good look at him. He looked as if he had stepped out of one of her rock and roll dreams. Then he smiled at her and she felt all melty. 

God, what a jerk! She thought with a grin. 

Her heart was dancing to a new beat as she walked up to him. “Hey, morning.” 

Bog smiled at her. “Morning, ah...you wanna stop and grab a coffee before we go?” 

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” Marianne fell into step beside him. 

They both had their hands in the pockets of their jackets, but their arms and shoulders occasionally touched as they walked to the coffee shop. 

“So, ah, any surprise instruments today?” Marianne asked with a soft laugh. 

Bog chuckled. “Nah, not this time. You?” 

Marianne grinned. “I think I might have something that will surprise you.” 

Bog smiled, lifting a brow. “Uh oh, not sure I like the sound of that.” 

They both laughed stepping inside the coffee shop to get coffee before heading to the music store. 

* 

The music store, Bradey’s Musical Emporium, was impressive. Marianne was surprised she hadn’t heard about this place or hadn’t found it on her own. They had everything, every musical instrument, sheet music, and they even sold pianos--not that she played but that wasn’t the point. They had pianos. 

Bog held the door open for her then walked beside her heading to the counter where a tall older man with hair that fell almost to his waist stood writing music on a piece of paper bouncing his head in time to whatever music it was that he was hearing in his head. 

The man looked up and grinned when he saw Bog. “Hey man, here to check on your girl?” 

Bog nodded. “Hey Bradey and yeah. Actually I’m here to show her to a friend.” He gestured at Marianne. “Marianne this is Bradey. Bradey--Marianne.” 

“Hey, nice to meet you.” Bradey leaned across the counter to take Marianne’s hand. “Nice to see Bog’s got a girlfriend too.” 

Bog choked suddenly, unable to breathe. He opened his mouth to answer, but Marianne said sweetly. “Well, nice to be seen.” 

Bog blinked at her in surprise, but Bradey smiled. “I’ll go get her. Might take me just a bit since we moved a few things in the back…” 

“Hey, no problem Bradey, we’ll just look around,” Bog said and Bradey nodded, grabbing up his music and disappearing into the back. 

Marianne was looking around. “Care if I go check out their sheet music?” 

“Uh, no, of course not. Go ahead.” Bog smiled at her and Marianne swallowed, but her smile stayed in place after she walked off. 

Bog sighed. Man she was making him nervous! 

* 

Marianne’s heart was beating so loud it was the only sound she could hear. Why had she said that? She sounded so stupid! But she also found that she wanted Bradey to think they were dating. 

But why, she asked herself. 

She shook herself. She felt as if she was weirdly out of control, as if she didn't know what she was feeling or thinking. She began to page through the sheet music though she wasn’t really looking at it. Why was she feeling so nervous around Bog? BOG! The guy who irritated the life out of her! The guy who was so annoying! The guy who had these gorgeous blue eyes and could play like a dream. 

The guy with a voice that made her insides turn to mush… 

Oh shit, Marianne thought as she stared down blankly at the sheet music. 

What was wrong with her? 

* 

Bog started to pace again, his nerves making him jittery. He glanced over at Marianne and his heart did that weird skipping again. She was so beautiful, so talented, so smart, so annoyingly cute, and rude… 

He turned away. He was thinking weird thoughts. He needed something to do while he waited so he wouldn’t focus on her… 

His eyes landed on the pianos. 

He knew they were all tuned so that customers could play them. He flexed his fingers and walked over. 

* 

Marianne pulled out a sheet of music with a smile. It was a piece she had been looking for, but her attention was immediately shattered by the sound of piano music--beautiful, skillfully and passionately played piano music. Waterfall Etude by Chopin to be exact, a difficult piece. 

Turning toward the sound Marianne went still. Bog was sitting at one of the pianos. He had taken his hat off, set it on the bench beside him, and his fingers were moving across the keys, his eyes closed, his entire body moving with the music. 

Watching Bog play gave Marianne goosebumps. She felt herself move closer, drawn toward him. He moved smoothly into another piece, Marianne’s face lighting up when she heard him playing 

“Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen. 

Slowly, more and more people in the shop wandered closer to him, like honey drawing bees. 

Marianne reached up and laid her fingers against her lips staring at him as Bog slowly shifted into a soft, heart wrenching love song, his entire body given over to the music, to his playing. 

Marianne realized in that moment, as she stared with wonderment, that she was falling in love with Bog King, her sworn enemy.


	3. Chapter 3

Bradey came out carrying Bog’s guitar, but he stopped next to Marianne who was staring at Bog while he played, his body moving with the music. Marianne could easily picture Bog dressed like Mozart in a tailcoat and knee breeches playing for kings. The image made her smile, but it also made every part of her that was attracted to Bog click up a notch. The man was so attractive, talented, and just...perfect. That thought made her pause, her heart thumping hard in her chest. As Bog brought Liszt’s “La Campanella''--one of the most difficult pieces--to an end, he swayed, completely lost in the music. Bog played the last notes with drama, sitting up straight as he brought his hands down on the piano, the notes lingering in the air like magic. 

When Bog was finished, his fingers resting on the keys, his shoulders slumping for a moment, and his eyes closed, the little world the notes had created around him faded and the few patrons in the shop (and a few people who had wandered in while Bog played) all broke into applause. 

Bog jerked, clearly startled and looked around in confusion. Marianne grinned. That was adorable, the man had no idea how good he was, had been so lost in the music he had forgotten where he was, or that anyone was listening to him. She bit her bottom lip. She loved that about him. She loved so many little things about him she realized with a strange and sudden clarity. 

Bradey grinned walking over to Bog. “Hey man, got your girl right here.” 

Bog was still blushing as he stood up and took the guitar. “Thanks man.” 

“No problem, when you’re done, just bring her over to the counter.” Bradey smiled and walked off leaving Bog and Marianne alone again. 

Bog sat back down on the piano bench with the guitar on his lap. Marianne came over to sit beside him (picking up his hat and holding it on her lap.) 

“That is a gorgeous guitar,” she observed. 

Bog nodded in agreement. “Yeah.” He ran his hands over the instrument like he was caressing a lover. “I just have to make two more payments and she’s all mine.” 

Marianne smiled watching the expression on Bog’s face, an expression she knew well herself because that was how she felt about her cello. A musician's love affair with their instrument was one of the most enduring relationships they could have and it was something she understood--and clearly Bog understood as well. Just another little thing about the man that made her love him she realized. Now that she knew that what she was feeling was love, she found that everything he did made her heart twist and her stomach fill with butterflies. The fact that Bog understood the relationship between the artist and the musician was just something else that made the difference between Bog and Roland crystal clear. Roland had never understood her relationship with her instruments. Heck he hadn’t even respected his own instrument, his voice, but Bog… 

Marianne gazed at him, her heart beating loudly in her ears, her hands sweaty. 

What on earth was she going to do with this information, this realization now? 

They both sat quietly for a few minutes, Bog admiring his guitar while Marianne admired him when she asked. “If...if you want, we could practice a song together for the acoustic night...thing at the Primrose…” She looked down at his hat in her lap. “If you want, that is…” 

Bog, bent over the guitar and looked over at Marianne. His heart was beating so loudly he was surprised she couldn't hear it. 

He glanced back down at his guitar, licking his lips before he answered. “Ah sure...Theo and Steph have this mostly empty storage locker where I sometimes go to practice because it has really great acoustics. We ah...we could go there after grabbing a dinner at the Primrose tonight--if you want that is…” Bog added quickly. 

Marianne grinned at him and reached over to place his hat on his head. “Sounds like a plan.” 

Bog gave her a goofy, lopsided grin that pulled at her heart before she stood up, stretching her arms over her head, which caused Bog’s heart to skip a beat along with a throb in his groin. 

“Well I better go grab my spot for today…” She smirked at him, then broke down into a laugh at the look on Bog’s face. “You wouldn’t,” he said, frowning at her, but Marianne just laughed. 

“Let’s see how fast you are.” 

She took off with a giggle heading toward the door. She could hear Bog’s grumbling behind her as he got to his feet. She stopped at the door only long enough to look over her shoulder and see Bog was handing Bradey the guitar before she pushed past the door and took off at a run. 

* 

Between the run to her car and the jog to the favored busking spot while dragging her cello, violin, and her third bag plus the chair, Marianne was a little out of breath, but she had won, she had gotten here first. She smiled in the middle of setting up her chair when Bog arrived, his arms full with three instrument cases. He gave Marianne a dirty look, but she saw the smile tugging at his lips and the sparkle in his blue eyes under the brim of his hat as he took the second place corner. She smiled and winked at him at the same time her heart was beating quickly as she started to unzip the nylon bag that held one of her secret weapons inside. 

* 

Bog watched Marianne as she set up and noticed she had a nylon case with her. He couldn’t figure out what instrument she had inside the bag. It didn’t look like anything he was familiar with. He kept looking over at her trying to figure out what instrument she had while he set up, but he eventually had to stop if he was going to get his equipment set up without tripping over himself. Bog finally had his chair unfolded and had his guitar with him, the trumpet was on it’s stand next to him, and as he sat down he pulled the smaller case he had brought with him up onto his lap. He had a secret weapon today too, an instrument Marianne would probably be surprised to learn he knew how to play. He adjusted his hat on his head and had just opened the instrument case when he heard the first cords of a harp. 

Bog’s head snapped up to see Marianne holding a lyre in her lap. His mouth dropped open as she started to play, a tune he recognized from one of his personal favorite films, “The Merry Go Round of Life” from Howl’s Moving Castle. The sound was romantic, he thought, the tune simple, but sweet. He loved that tune and there she was, the woman of his dreams playing one of his favorite tunes like she was trying to worm her way deeper into his heart (the reality of that thought made Bog pause, the woman of his dreams. Marianne was the woman of his dreams. How had he missed that? And what was he going to do about it?) 

He stared at her and thought she somehow looked like a fairy princess playing the lyre, playing one of his favorite tunes, from one of his favorite movies. He felt his heart twist in his chest as he watched her play, the woman he loved, the music tugging at his spirit. 

He frowned looking down at his flute for a moment before an idea formed and he smiled. 

* 

The tune was one of Marianne’s favorites. 

She loved to play the song and she knew how to play the tune on every instrument she knew how to play. Maybe that was a bit obsessive, but she didn’t care. She had closed her eyes when she began to play the song, letting the tune wash over her, and let the notes' sweet fairytale quality dance lightly in the air. She had relaxed into the music when she suddenly heard the delicate sound of a flute accompanying her. 

Her eyes popped open, immediately snapping over to Bog. He was standing up, his hat on his head, and playing a flute looking like he had stepped out of a medieval romance! The man knew how to play a flute, she repeated to herself! She was surprised--though she shouldn’t have been she realized--but she was all the same. 

Bog moved a little while he played, making Marianne think of a seductive Pied Piper...who she would gladly follow to whatever doom he had in mind. Not only did he play beautifully, he was gorgeous. The Pied Piper had come to lead her away and she was going to follow him wherever he took her! 

Marianne’s fingers never stumbled even as she watched Bog. He had his eyes closed as he played the romantic tune along with her, his flute blending perfectly with her harp. As if sensing her gaze on him, he opened his eyes. Marianne’s heart nearly stopped as his blue eyes met hers. 

They started at each other with a sense of longing, saying to the other with the notes of the song what they were having trouble saying with words. 

I love you. 

* 

For the remainder of the day, instead of battling with each other, or throwing jabs, they tested each other's song knowledge and their ability to pick up a tune on whichever of the three instruments they had. One of them would start to play something, with the other jumping in, the two of them weaving notes back and forth together in a beautiful tapestry of music. It was clear to anyone listening that these two buskers were romancing each other without the use of words. 

It was fun Bog thought, matching wits and skill with Marianne. His feelings that had been building over the weeks they had known each other turned from friendship and admiration into a deep, passionate love that he realized had always been swimming under the surface. 

He just had no idea how he was going to tell her, or even if he should. 

Marianne enjoyed having someone whose knowledge (especially of film music) was as extensive as hers, and she enjoyed that she was sharing this with Bog. She sucked on her bottom lip in thought. She could simply not tell him, but after thinking about that for a while, she knew that she couldn’t do that. 

Marianne took a deep breath, determined. She was going to tell him… 

She just didn’t know how or when... 

* 

That evening Bog beat Marianne to the bar (only fair she supposed, plus he didn’t have a cello to lug around), but as usual, when she arrived her sandwich and beer were waiting for her along with his bright smile and heavenly blue eyes. 

Bog grinned at her when she came over and took her seat. “Spoke to Theo and he said it was fine if we wanted to run over there and use their unit. I mean if you still want to.” Bog seemed both nervous and excited, which perfectly matched her own mood. 

Marianne smiled and nodded. “Yeah I would love to.” 

Bog nodded, turning his gaze to his bottle of beer. He slowly turned the bottle around on the counter, a nervous gesture. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Marianne thought he might be blushing. 

“Great, you can follow me. I’m parked behind the bar,” Bog said, glancing up at her. 

Marianne smiled softly. “I’m just parked down the block. I’ll drive over here and then follow you.” 

Bog nodded with a smile just for her. “Cool.” 

* 

The storage unit wasn’t that far from the bar, maybe a little over a mile away. Bog had told her before they left that Theo and Steph mostly used the unit to store some of Emmie’s old baby things, her crib, some baby clothes, things that Emmie was too big for, but they wanted to keep just in case. Bog knew they were trying for another baby as Theo had mentioned it one night a while back. Bog was looking forward to them having another baby. He loved Emmie to pieces, and he would love to see another like her. Bog enjoyed being a surrogate uncle. 

Bog put in the code to open the gates after they parked. Marianne had her cello while Bog had his guitar. He led her into the yard then down one of the long cement walkways lined with storage units on each side. 

“Won’t we get in trouble for this? I mean, by the owners of the storage facility?” Marianne asked as she followed along beside Bog. 

Bog laughed. “Nah, Leonard knows me.” 

“So no one will report us for noise?” she asked. 

Bog only grinned. “Nah.” 

He finally stopped and turned. “This is it.” 

He pulled a ring of keys out from his front pocket and crouched down to open the padlock before throwing up the door. He walked in and turned on the light. 

The unit didn’t have much inside. Marianne could see a disassembled crib and some boxes marked onesies, and baby toys, but those items were all pushed to the sides leaving the middle space clear. Clearly Bog had used the space before. 

Bog walked into the unit space and set his guitar down. “Give me a second, there are a couple of folding chairs in the back…” 

Marianne watched Bog as he moved a few things around, bending over...Oh my, his ass was nice she thought with a grin, had she noticed how nice his ass was before? While Bog moved a few things, bending over again, Marianne could imagine grabbing a hold of… 

Marianne shook her head to clear the thought that had started to form, her cheeks burning red just as Bog yelled. “Ah, here!” Bog pulled out two old metal folding chairs and held them up as he turned around, as if they were trophies. He grinned at her before he unfolded them both, setting the chairs side by side. 

Marianne walked over and sat down in one of the chairs, resting her cello down at her feet. She unlocked the case as Bog sat down beside her and set his guitar case on his lap to quickly pull his instrument out. Marianne watched him from the corner of her eye, slightly distracted as Bog pulled his guitar out. He had dropped his hat onto the floor next to him by the case, running his long fingers through his hair, messing the hair up more than actually grooming it before he brought the guitar up to his lap. Marianne watched as he brushed his fingers over the strings and began to tune the instrument. Sitting this close to him, she noticed just how long and elegant his fingers were as he moved them over the strings. His sharp, narrow profile was regal, like he was royalty. 

Taking a deep breath, Marianne blushed, turning away to pull out her cello, setting the instrument between her legs and doing her own tuning. 

Once Bog had his guitar tuned, he strummed out a few notes, glancing over at Marianne as he did so. Her brow was furrowed as she tuned her cello, a look of intense concentration on her pretty face. Her nose was slightly wrinkled in the most adorable way. He felt a tug in his chest as he gazed at Marianne. His fingers moved lightly over his strings playing out a tune that he wasn’t really hearing while he gazed at her. 

Marianne glanced over at him to find him staring at her. Bog blushed and looked away, but Marianne asked. “That tune you’re playing, it sounds familiar, but I can’t place it…” 

Bog frowned only now hearing the tune he was strumming. “Oh, ah, its “Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison.” He felt the blush that warmed his cheeks deepen. 

Blushing as well, Marianne asked softly. “I’ve never heard the song--can you sing it for me?” 

Bog nodded silently and played the tune with more purpose for a minute, just pulling out the tune, playing and lightly thumping on his guitar. He kept his gaze on his guitar as he played, his legs set a little ways apart and the guitar resting against his thigh. Marianne watched him mesmerized as he tapped his foot in time to the music before he began to sing. 

“Hey, where did we go? 

Days when the rains came 

Down in the hollow 

Playin' a new game 

Laughing and a running hey, hey 

Skipping and a jumping 

In the misty morning fog with 

Our hearts a thumpin' and you 

My brown-eyed girl 

You, my brown-eyed girl…” 

* 

Bog looked up from the guitar to glance over at Marianne. His voice was soft, yet strong at the same time, filling the storage unit with pleasant music. Marianne watched him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open as he sang to her. 

“...Sometimes I'm overcome thinking 'bout 

Making love in the green grass 

Behind the stadium with you 

My brown-eyed girl 

You, my brown-eyed girl 

Do you remember when we used to sing 

Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da 

Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da, la te da…” 

* 

Bog looked away again, adding some flourishes to the song that were all his, tapping his foot as he played and hummed the tune, adding under his breath. “My brown-eyed girl…” 

When he finished Marianne clapped. “Oh Bog, that was amazing!” 

Grinning Bog blushed and looked away. “Well it isn’t my song or anything like that…” 

Marianne reached out and laid her hand against his shoulder. “You have a gorgeous voice.” 

Bog smiled, his cheeks rosy. “Thank you. I’ve heard you sing too, you know, and your voice is…” He struggled for a moment before he added in a soft, husky voice, “...it sends a shiver down my spine.” 

“Really?” Marianne looked surprised. “Roland used to say my voice was adequate, but nothing special.” 

“Well Roland was a complete asshole who knew you were better than him and wanted to make sure you never found that out,” Bog said with determination. “He’s a complete wanker.” 

Marianne laughed. “True, he is a wanker.” 

Bog really liked the sound of Marianne’s laugh, liked the way her laughter made him feel. He took a deep breath, smiling before he said. “So, what do you think we should play for the acoustic night?” 

Marianne frowned in thought, running through her head the possible pieces of music that would work with guitar and cello. “Do you know Scarborough Fair?” 

Bog gave her a withering look that made her laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes...okay, how about that and you pick the other piece?” Marianne smiled at him in a way that made Bog feel that shiver down his spine. 

He pressed his lips together as he thought before he finally said. “How about Bohemian Rhapsody? That’s always a crowd pleaser.” 

“Oh! Good choice!” Marianne nodded, her mind briefly drifting to him playing the tune, before picking up her bow and starting to play. 

Bog grinned at her wrinkling his long nose and easily caught up to Marianne. Together they played through the song, each adding flourishes as naturally as if they had been playing together all their lives instead of playing “against” each other from two corners. 

Bog had crossed his legs, his ankle resting against his knee as he played, his foot moving in time to the music. 

Everything was perfect. 

They played for another couple of hours, going back and forth, much like they did when they were busking, but there was an intimacy this time, sitting close together, laughing, touching one another gently, brushing of fingers across arms, knees bumping, but when Marianne yawned Bog picked up on the yawn too. He stretched his arms over his head (very distracting Marianne thought) before he pulled his phone out to look at the time. “Oh damn, it’s almost three in the morning!” 

Marianne pulled her own phone out of her cello case where she had tossed it hours earlier and gasped. “It is...oh shit…” She saw she had several text messages from her sister. “Dawn is going to kill me for not checking in. She left me a dozen messages.” Marianne quickly messaged her sister back to tell her that everything was all right and that she was hanging out with Bog, whom she had told her sister all about. 

Bog chuckled. “Better your sister than my mother.” He held his phone out so Marianne could see that Bog had twice as many text messages from his mother. 

They both looked at each other, then snickered together. 

“You wouldn’t think we were adults would you?” Bog laughed. “By the way our family members act…” 

Marianne nodded as she settled her cello in its case. “Yeah, they act like we need someone to take care of us.” 

“Well, it’s nice to know we’re both loved.” Bog shrugged, sending a quick message to his mother to let her know he was alive and well before laying his guitar into its case. 

Marianne turned to look at Bog. Her heart was pounding so loud and hard that she was surprised the sound didn’t fill the entire room. She wanted to tell him how she felt about him, how her feelings had changed and that...she loved him… 

But she was terrible with words. Music had always spoken for her and while it still could, she felt that maybe in this instant she needed a more physical way to tell him how she felt about him. 

She felt confident that Bog felt the same way, by the way he looked at her, the songs they chose when they busked, bringing her to his special place to practice, and most importantly, taking her to see his precious guitar… 

Sucking on her bottom lip for a moment, Marianne hoped she was reading all the signs correctly because she was in love with him and she wanted--needed--to tell him. 

Bog had just closed his guitar case and had turned around to face her when Marianne did the only thing she could think of that would quickly communicate her feelings without her awkwardly trying to find the words. She lunged forward, grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands, and yanked the tall man down to her, pressing her lips against his mouth as she stood up on her tiptoes. 

Bog’s eyes widened so far that the white shone in sharp contrast to the blue. His arms were up and out, held awkwardly away from Marianne since he didn’t know where to put them. He stared at her, though Marianne’s eyes were closed, her cheeks rosy. She was beautiful and she was kissing him. Why was she kissing him? Ugly, awkward him… 

Bog was just so shocked that his mind seemed to stall as he tried to work out both what was happening and what he should do. But as always, he reacted too slowly. 

When nothing happened, when Bog didn’t kiss her back, Marianne’s eyes flew open to see Bog staring at her, his hands in the air as if he were too disgusted to touch her. Her cheeks flushed a darker red as shame washed over her. 

Oh god, what had she done! She had completely misread the situation. 

Marianne let go of Bog and backed away from him. “I’m...I’m sorry...I...I have to go.” 

Marianne moved quickly grabbing up her cello and was running out of the storage unit as fast as she could with her cello in tow. 

Bog didn’t move for several seconds only seeming to find the ability to move and breathe after Marianne had taken off down the hall with her cello. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Bog cursed at himself and raced after her. “Marianne!!” 

He came out of the storage unit and stopped, looking both ways, but Marianne could apparently move quickly despite the awkward weight of a cello before she was gone. 

He took off at the run heading to the front gate of the storage place, arriving in time to see Marianne disappear behind the wheel of her car. 

He waved his hands over his head trying to get her attention. “Marianne!! Stop!! Please!!” 

If she saw him, she gave no indication as she peeled out a little faster than was safe. 

Bog was panting a little from his run and he dropped his hands to his knees trying to catch his breath, at the same time cursing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! You fucking idiot, Bog!” 

Bog growled loudly, standing up straight and slammed his fists against the nearest concrete wall. The pain vibrated up his arm. How could he had been so stupid??!! He loved her, she was in love with him, and she had kissed him and all he had done was stand there like a great big fucking plank!! 

“UGGH!!!!” Bog growled loudly, his cry echoing down the silent halls of the storage units before he leaned against the wall, completely defeated. He had never gotten her number, had no way to contact her and tell her he loved her, that he wanted to kiss her again, that...that… 

Bog sank to the floor, his elbows on his knees, and grabbed his head. 

* 

The next day Bog was a nervous wreck. 

He had dressed carefully, his best pair of jeans instead of ripped ones, a collarless black shirt (though he didn’t button the collar and he rolled the sleeves up), and his trusty hat. He had a love song planned out to play for Marianne, along with an apology. He was going to tell her how she made him feel, how important she had become to him over the weeks of the fighting and playing, how getting the chance to play with her was the best thing that had ever happened to him, but when Bog arrived at the busking spot, he was first there. He took the prime busking spot and set up his instruments, guitar, harmonica, and the hurdy gurdy, but as he played and the morning wore on, Marianne never showed up. 

By late afternoon all of Bog’s songs had turned into sad tunes. 

He was playing and singing softly, his heart broken. 

“Ain't no sunshine when she's gone 

It's not warm when she's away 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone 

And she's always gone too long 

Anytime she goes away 

Wonder this time where she's gone 

Wonder if she's gone to stay…” 

* 

He had his eyes closed, but as he drew the song to an end he saw Theo and Emmie standing nearby. Theo was holding his daughter’s hand and Emmie looked upset. 

Bog frowned laying his hand across the guitar strings giving them both a smile. “Hey.” 

Theo frowned. “Where’s Marianne?” 

The question, even though he had been expecting it, hit Bog hard. “I don’t know…” Bog sighed, hanging his head giving it a slow shake. “I fucked up man…” 

Theo put his hands over Emmie’s ear, but the little girl swatted her father’s hands away. “What happened?” 

Bog looked so broken when he looked over at them that Theo motioned to him. “Get your stuff and come over to the bar. I’ll fix you something to eat and you can tell us what happened, okay?” 

Bog nodded silently. 

* 

The bar at this hour wasn’t very busy, the quiet lull between late afternoon and evening. Bog sat on his favored stool, though instead of a bottle of beer, he had a shot of whiskey in front of him and a plate of meatloaf and mash potatoes in front of him, barely touched. 

Steph and Theo were standing behind the bar and Steph shook her head. “Oh Bog…” 

Bog rubbed his eyes with his finger and thumb. They stung with unshed tears. “I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

“No you’re not Bog...she caught you by surprise is all,” Theo said. 

“But she didn’t show up so I could apologize…” Bog muttered. “...so I could tell her how I feel about her…” He shook his head. “I don’t have any way of telling her…unless she shows up for the acoustic night tomorrow...I probably won’t ever see her again…” Bog picked up the glass of whiskey, downing it in one swallow. The drink and his pain made his eyes burn and water. 

Steph frowned, glancing at her husband. There was nothing they could do either except try to help Bog get through his pain. 

* 

Marianne sat in her apartment playing her harp, not really playing a tune, just stroking the strings while she stared off into space. In her apartment's tiny kitchen, her little sister Dawn was making some tea and pulling some biscuits out of the oven. Her big sister had called her this afternoon, hadn't really said much, but Dawn could hear the pain in her sister’s voice and had come right over. 

Over the afternoon Marianne had told Dawn everything that had happened with her and Bog last night. 

Dawn, looking adorable in her pink t-shirt and cut-off shorts, her short blonde hair sticking up wildly around her head, came back into the living room and set her sister’s tea down in front of her. 

“I think you should go tomorrow night,” Dawn stated as she set down the plate of hot biscuits, along with some butter and jam. 

“What?” Marianne looked up, startled from her moping. 

“I think what happened is that you surprised him…” Dawn had cut open one of the biscuits and was buttering it while she spoke. “I think that if you had given him a chance he would have kissed you back.” 

“You don’t know that...I mean, he looked so…” Marianne stopped, her words coming out in a whispered. “...shocked…” 

Dawn took a large bite from her biscuit after she had spread some peach jam over it. 

She spoke around her bite. “Yeah, he probably was…but did he look disgusted?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Marianne said softly. 

“Look, I know I don’t know everything about what was going on except from what you’ve told me…” The younger woman took a sip of her tea. “...but he didn’t take you to that music store to show you his guitar for shits and giggles. That clearly meant something to him sis...I think you just caught him off guard. He wasn’t expecting a kiss...which is cute. I think you need to go to that acoustic night and you need to tell him more plainly how you feel instead of running away.” Dawn stuffed the rest of her biscuit in her mouth. 

Marianne frowned at her sister. “You really think…” 

“Yeah, I do…” Dawn took another sip of her tea. “If you don’t go and at least make sure you didn’t read the situation wrong, then you are going to wonder if maybe…” Dawn shrugged, putting her hands up as she tilted her head. 

Marianne pressed her lips together, unsure of what she should do. 

* 

Bog didn’t want to be here. 

It was an acoustic night at the bar and he was supposed to be here with Marianne, yet here he sat, alone at the bar, his guitar leaning against his leg, and wishing he was anywhere else but here. He wanted to be home, miserable, and sitting on his couch staring at the TV or in bed. He didn't feel like playing any music, at least not any music a crowded bar on a Saturday night was going to enjoy, but Theo, Steph, and Emmie had convinced him to come and perform tonight, told him he needed to perform. 

He hadn’t put much effort in dressing tonight, just some of his jeans with holes in the knees and a faded black shirt with a grim reaper holding a guitar on the front, along with his boots and hat. 

He took a large swallow of his beer listening as a young woman on the stage played her violin. He was supposed to go on next. 

Theo frowned as he came over to stand near Bog. “You okay buddy?” 

Bog sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine…” 

Theo pressed his lips together looking clearly upset for his friend. No...more like his brother. Bog was part of his family, someone he would do anything for, and Theo hated to see Bog heartbroken like this. 

“Well, just do your best tonight.” Theo patted Bog on the shoulder. 

Bog smiled. “Thanks man.” 

The young woman finished and Bog took a deep breath. It was his turn. He had nothing prepared. After that night with Marianne, he hadn’t been able to think of anything he wanted to play that didn’t include her, but he dragged his ass and his guitar onto the stage and sat down on the stool in front of the microphone 

Bog looked out at the crowd from under the brim of his hat. Everyone was drinking, enjoying themselves while he felt as if his heart had been cut out of his chest by his own stupidity. He could see Steph and Theo watching him anxiously from behind the bar, there to support him no matter what. Bog sighed. He at least owed it to them to play well tonight. 

He took another deep breath though his nostrils, opening his guitar case and pulled out his guitar, resting the instrument on his lap. He let his breath out slowly as he gave the guitar a final tune up, and adjusted the mic before he began to play “Scarborough Fair” softly, gently. 

The bar became quiet while he played, but Bog didn’t notice them. He just let the music wash over him as his fingers moved over the strings. 

* 

Marianne, wearing jeans and a t-shirt under a simple leather jacket, slipped into the bar, her cello case in hand, her heart pounding in her chest, but she stopped the moment she was inside. Without looking, she knew that it was Bog on the stage playing. His music washed over her like a lover’s caress. She saw him up on the stage, his guitar resting on his lap while he played so beautifully. 

His hat was tilted in such a way that it obscured his features, but she could see his long pointed nose and sharp narrow chin silhouetted by the lights. 

Marianne turned, trying to figure out what to do next when she saw Steph motioning at her. Marianne skirted along the edges of the crowd, trying not to take anyone out with her cello or to draw too much attention to herself as she headed to the bar. 

“You came!” Steph gasped and yanked Marianne into a tight, breath stealing hug. “Bog’s just been sick, heartbroken after what happened,” Steph told Marianne as she hugged the younger woman. 

“He told you about the kiss?” Marianne asked in surprise as Steph held her out at arms length, her big hands holding Marianne’s shoulders. “He did. You know he loves you don’t you?” 

Marianne blushed. “But when I kissed…” 

“The man is shy, haven’t you figured that out?” Steph said with amusement. “A pretty girl kisses him out of the blue, and not just any pretty girl, but the one he’s head over heels in love with? I’m surprised Bog didn’t explode on the spot.” Steph smiled, shaking her head as Bog’s music filled the bar. “He loves you, Marianne. It just took him by surprise that you felt the same, but that man has been barely functioning since you disappeared on him.” Steph gave her a look that was both reprimand and understanding. “He’s been beating himself up about what happened…” 

Marianne smiled shyly, blushing. “I was an idiot too.” 

“Well, you can tell him later how you’re both idiots. Right now, why don’t you get on that stage with him?” Steph gave her a smile and a slight toss of her head toward the stage. 

Marianne turned to look at Bog one more time. His eyes were closed as he played, clearly lost in the music, unaware of anyone else in the bar, his fingers caressing the keys gently. Her heart twisted in her chest before she turned back to Steph with a smile. “Thanks.” 

Steph grinned and motioned with her hands. “Shoo, get up there.” 

* 

Bog finished the song and without pausing for the applause, headed into the next song. He didn’t play “Bohemian Rhapsody,” but instead he played something that made him think of Marianne. 

“Here Comes the Sun” began to emerge from his guitar strings. He didn’t hear the person walking up on stand behind him and setting down a chair, a short brunette with a cello. 

He was completely unaware of her until the moment after he had played the intro to the song, plucking the tune out expertly, until the moment the cello’s chords blended with his guitar. 

Bog’s eyes flew open and he turned to see Marianne sitting besides him, her cello between her legs. She smiled at him, a smile of understanding and forgiveness that asked for his forgiveness in return. 

Bog’s answering smile, along with the music was all the answer she needed. They played together, their music blending together into something beautiful and unique. 

When they finished, the crowd at the bar erupted into applause with several members of the audience yelling. “DUET!! DUET!!” 

Bog put his hand over the mic, turning on the stool toward Marianne. “You came back…” 

“Of course I did,” she said with a smile, then she was the one surprised as Bog set his guitar aside, stood, and reached out to cup her face in his hands. Marianne couldn’t breathe as Bog stood over her, gently holding her face. Her breath stopped, her heart stopped, but when his lips met hers, everything started again. Marianne leaned into his kiss which was filled with passion, a slow, sensual press of his warm, soft lips, to the gentle, hesitant, but wanting brush of his tongue. When she opened her mouth to him and their tongues met, Marianne swore there were fireworks. 

The crowd in the bar yelled even louder for the duet when they saw them kiss. 

Bog grinned at her. “You know “I Will Run to You?”” 

Marianne grinned at him as he stroked his thumbs over her cheeks. “You want me to stab you with this bow?” 

Bog laughed, releasing her and taking his place on the stool, guitar in hand. He played the guitar, strumming out the song’s notes for a few seconds before he leaned toward the mic, though his eyes were on Marianne, and sang. 

“One so young so changed 

Should not be left alone 

Two in love should confess 

And not be left alone 

* 

Marianne joined in the chorus, their voices blending perfectly together as if the two of them had always sang as one. 

I will run to you 

Down whatever road you choose 

I will follow you down 

I will run to you….” 

* 

Marianne picked up the next set of lyrics, gazing at Bog as she sang... 

“You've had time come around 

Will you please make up your mind 

I stand accused on trial 

Will you please make up your mind…” 

* 

Once more their voices blended together in a beautiful tapestry of music and melodious voices, singing only for each other, the audience privileged to the love being expressed between the two of them. 

* 

Late that night, after Bog and Marianne had played another set at the end of the night of performances and the bar was empty, only the staff left cleaning up, Bog and Marianne sat at the bar together sharing a couple of beers. 

Bog was blushing as he spun his beer around between his palms. “So, where do we go from here?” 

Marianne, who was staring at her own beer, murmured softly, her cheeks bright red. “My place?” 

Bog’s head snapped around in an almost comical fashion, which made Marianne giggle as she added. “I would like you to spend the night. If you want…” 

“I want! I mean…” Bog swallowed gazing at her with such love that Marianne’s heart broke and healed with it. “Are you sure?” 

“I’ve never been more sure.” She reached out and took his hand while standing up. Bog, like a man in a trance, reached down for his guitar case while Marianne grabbed her cello and led him out of the bar. 

Theo and Steph watched them go without a word. 

Steph grinned. “Wedding in say...a year?” 

Theo grinned. “I say elopement in less than six months.” 

“Wanna bet?” Steph asked with a smirk. 

“The usual wager?” Theo asked with a grin. 

Steph nodded. “I get to tie you to the bed--you win, you tie me up.” 

Theo put his hand out. “You are on, my wife.” 

Steph shook his hand with a grin. 

* 

Bog sat nervously beside Marianne as she drove, gazing at her profile. She was so darn pretty it hurt to look at her sometimes, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. They planned on driving back in the morning to pick up Bog’s vehicle. Bog had drunk more (several glasses of whiskey before taking the stage) than Marianne and she didn’t want him driving. 

They made one stop at a twenty-four hour convenience store where they ran in together to buy condoms, a bottle of cheap wine, cereal they both liked, milk, and some coffee. Buying condoms with Marianne standing beside him was embarrassing, but also nice especially when, after they had placed their items on the counter, she had taken his hand and looked up at him at the same time weaving her fingers with his and giving his hand a squeeze. Bog knew everything was going to be all right. 

* 

Marianne’s apartment was larger than his, which was more of a big room with a bathroom as the only separate room while Marianne’s place was huge with a separate bathroom, bedroom, and a half wall dividing the kitchen and living room. The walls were white, but she had hung old posters from operas, concerts, and musicals throughout the place, each one reflecting his own taste in music and movies. Her floors were hard wood with thick throw rugs placed here and there. Her furniture wasn’t new, but it was good stuff he could tell. A bit worn, but with that comfortable way that made a guest feel welcome. She had mismatched throw pillows on the couch, a lazy chair, and a coffee table that was cluttered with sheet music, and a large flat screen television. She also had a state of the art sound system that made Bog grin, and a large collection of CD’s lined up in shelves against one wall. 

“You can set your guitar anywhere,” Marianne said as she flicked on the overhead light which was an antique looking cast iron chandelier. She leaned her cello case against the half wall, dropping their bag on the counter. She walked around the half wall and pulled out the milk, putting it in the fridge, but left the other items out on the cabinet, including the condoms. Bog followed her, setting his guitar case down, leaning it against the wall beside her cello. He watched her as she put the milk away, a small smile curling his lips. Marianne came around the half wall as Bog started to come around to help her put the rest of their purchases away. They both came to a stop staring at each other. 

She bit her bottom lip softly and reached up, standing on her toes, and without a word plucked his hat from his head. She sat the hat on the counter, then reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, fluffing out the hair that was plastered to his head. Bog leaned down enough to let her easily ruffle his hair. He stared into her eyes as Marianne’s fingers slid down along his throat, then followed the line of his jaw. He reached out to lay his hands on her waist. She was so tiny and delicate, but at the same time he felt the strength in her. 

“I love you,” he said, the words simple, but filled with such meaning that Marianne felt them in her very soul. 

“I love you too, you grumpy musician,” she said with a smile. “Think after this we might share the best busking spot?” She tilted her head slightly, her brown eyes twinkling. 

Bog grinned, his cheeks a rosy red. “I think I might be persuaded.” 

Marianne laughed and took his hand, turning him around as she walked and led him from her living room to her bedroom in the back, snatching the box of condoms off the counter as she went. 

* 

The tiny hall of her apartment was decorated with photographs that Bog assumed were of her family. He caught a glimpse of a blonde woman who looked a great deal like Marianne, her sister he thought, just as Marianne pushed a door open and led him inside. 

She flipped on the light and Bog saw that Marianne’s bedroom was warm and inviting. She had only a double bed which meant sleeping was going to be tight, but also sweetly intimate. The bed was piled with pillows and had a thick crocheted blanket in purples and dark blues folded at the end over a dark blue and black bedspread. Nestled among the pillows was a purple stuffed bear, missing an eye, it’s colorful fur worn in places; a precious object. 

Bog smiled. He liked that she kept a stuffed toy. 

Marianne turned around blushing at him. “I’m not really sure how we should…” 

Bog cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, a deep, passionate kiss that made her knees weak while at the same time blood rushed hot through her veins. She tossed the box of condoms onto the bed and started to pull at Bog’s clothes, eager to touch him, to feel his skin under her fingers. 

Trying hard not to lose contact with her mouth, Bog reached over his shoulder and grabbed his t-shirt. At the same time he was pulling it over his head, he used his feet to try and simply pull off his boots. 

Marianne wanted to help him, but at the same time she wanted out of her own clothing, so together, trying to continue kissing each other at the same time, Bog and Marianne did an awkward dance of getting out of their clothing. Bog tossed his shirt down and managed to kick off his boots, but instead of working on his jeans he reached out and grabbed Marianne by hers, yanking her closer as he pulled the button of her jeans free and yanked down her zipper. 

Kicking her own shoes across the room to join Bog’s boots, Marianne got her t-shirt off then giggled as Bog yanked her forward. They both laughed softly, together working to get each other out of her jeans. 

His kisses were searing her as Marianne pulled each button of his jeans through the hole, her fingers brushing against his erection, causing him to grunt or suck in a quick breath. Marianne’s excitement grew as she felt the warmth and hardness of him. She hadn’t been with anyone but Roland and she hadn’t been with anyone else since Roland, quite some time ago now. She was a little worried, but the passion that was pumping through her veins for Bog guided her. She knew what she wanted, what she needed. 

Bog’s fingers moved with the grace and agility of the musician he was, quickly loosening her pants and sliding them down her hips, kissing her the entire time. He felt her step out of her pants without seeing, his hands reaching up to caress the sides of her neck. He hadn’t been with anyone in years and he was terrified of disappointing Marianne, but his body ached for her as the song she had written on his heart sang through his veins. He might be nervous, but the emotion wasn’t enough to stop him. 

They let each other breathe after they were both down to their underwear, taking a step back to look at each other. Marianne bit her bottom lip as a hot spike of need washed over her when she gazed at him, tall, broad shoulders, lean, but not skinny. He had a smattering of hair across his chest and a line that ran down his stomach to disappear behind the band of his underwear. His hips were narrow and where his underwear hid his erection, Marianne could see she was not going to be disappointed. He looked slightly dorky still in his socks, but that only made her heart swell a little more with love for him. Her breasts ached, her nipples hard, and the damp heat between her legs throbbed. 

Bog swallowed, staring at Marianne. She was perfect, he thought. Her breasts would fit perfectly in his hands, her stomach was flat, but not too flat, just a little curve of belly that made him want to drag his tongue over her skin. His erection pulsed with need and want as he gazed at her, but it was her eyes and her smile that made his erection ache. 

Giving him a shy smile, Marianne walked over to the bed and pulled the covers back. Bog walked over to the other side and waited for her to tell him what to do. 

“Do you want me to turn the lights off? Is that side all right?” Marianne asked as she reached for the box of condoms, opening the box and pulling out a string of them from which she tore off two and laid them on the bedside table. 

Bog nodded, maybe a little too eagerly he thought. “Yeah, this is fine. And no...leave the lights on.” He smiled, his gazed raking over her, causing Marianne to smile, blushing prettily. 

She smiled at him and reached behind her to unlatch her bra. Bog didn’t move, just watched as she slid the bra down her arms, his heart and erection pounding in time together as Marianne revealed her breasts. Her nipples were so pink and rosy, his mouth watered at the sight of them. Marianne blushed shyly as she dropped her bra to the floor before reaching for her panties and slipped them down her legs. 

The throb in his erection worsened. She wasn’t shaved! She had a sweet tangle of dark brown hair between her legs that he found so erotic that he had to swallow the groan that threatened to escape. 

Marianne blushed under Bog’s stare, but she also felt empowered, emboldened. She pointed and gestured at his underwear. “Aren’t you going to join me?” 

“Oh! Oh yes…” Bog yanked his underwear down a little too quickly. 

Marianne gasped when she saw his erection. He was long and thick, but not too much of either. The ache in her breasts and legs intensified at the sight of him and all she could think of was getting her hands on him, of touching him, licking him, feeling him inside her. She licked her lips and climbed into bed. 

Bog wasn’t sure if her reaction had been favorable. He wasn’t all that confident in his manhood, but when she pulled the sheets back a little more, gazing up at him with those sexy brown eyes, 

Bog climbed into bed next to her, his doubts melting away. 

They gathered each other into their arms, kissing hot and passionately, their tongues saying things that they had yet to find words for while their hands slowly learned the curves and planes of each others bodies. 

Marianne’s hand glided over Bog’s hip, down along the back of his thigh, and back up again. She reached up to press her hand to his stomach, sliding her fingers down to the dark curls of hair around his erection. The grunt that Bog made thrilled her, emboldened her to reach between them and lightly touch his erection. Bog’s groan at her touch made her shudder. Marianne lightly ran her fingers along his length as if she was playing an instrument, before she finally wrapped her hand around him. Bog’s responding moan made her body and soul sing with pleasure. He was hot in her hand, smooth, satiny skin while hard as a rock in her hand. She stroked him, sliding her hand up, the pad of her thumb caressing the soft head of his shaft, feeling the sticky sweetness of his excitement. 

Bog held her closer, his mouth moving down to nibble at her throat, groaning each time her hand slid up him, or she squeezed a little tight causing him to jerk and groan with pleasure. Bog kissed his way to her shoulder, then traced her collarbone with his tongue. Marianne arched slightly in response as he kissed the top of her breast before his tongue flicked across her nipple. Her responding, gasping moan caused him to thrust into her hand. His tongue more slowly traced her nipple, snaking with firmer pressure over the sensitive surface before he caught her nipple in between his lips and sucked. His hand snaked down her body, caressing her curls, indulging in the feel of her velvet soft skin. His fingers brushed the curls at her sex, tenderly tangling in them before one long finger slid between her legs. Bog groaned deeply, feeling how wet she was as he slowly began to stroke back and forth, playing the woman he loved until he found the spot that made her sing notes of rising pleasure. 

Stars exploded behind Marianne’s eye when Bog’s tongue flicked across her nipple, but when he sucked on her nipple, the sensation was almost more than she could bear. She gasped and the wet heat between her legs intensified, the ache in her body almost unbearable, but when he touched her, his fingers finding her clitoris as if she would a beloved instrument, Marianne sang out, gasping as the exploding stars turned into exploding galaxies. 

They both knew they couldn’t wait. 

Marianne reached behind her and blindly smacked around until she found the condom. Bog took it from her, ripping it open with his teeth before sitting up on his knees to slide the rubber over his erection. 

Rolling onto her back, her legs spread, Marianne reached for him, desperate to start the song they were writing together. Bog climbed between her legs, his hands on either side of her head as he smiled down at her. He leaned down to kiss her, a soft, sweet, passionate kiss that was filled with more meaning than any simple words. Marianne caressed his sides, returning his kiss with equal passion and when he slid into her, she cried out the words of a song only for the two of them. 

Shuddering, Bog groaned as her body enveloped him. Together they moved, instinctively knowing each other, listening and learning as they moved together, Marianne’s legs wrapped around his waist. Bog leaned on his elbows, his fingers tangling in her hair while he thrust firmly, picking up speed as they both climbed their notes of pleasure together until Marianne burst into song, pleasure rippling and vibrating through her until she was completely lost in the music. Bog quickly followed her, his own notes mixing with hers... 

They sang together, a song of passion and love found. 

* 

Late the next morning, half the box of condoms gone and the smell of coffee filling the apartment, Marianne snuggled up against Bog’s side as he sat naked in bed next to her, his guitar in his lap. 

He strummed slowly, grinning at her as he plucked out a song. “I’ve come to a decision,” he said solemnly. 

Marianne smiled, kissing his shoulder. “What’s that?” 

Bog grinned at her, the devil in his blue eyes. “We’ll share the prime busking spot.” 

Marianne laughed and smacked him playfully on the same shoulder she had just kissed.


End file.
